


Our love is worth more than a thousand images

by elletromil



Series: Flufftober [24]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Photographer, Established Relationship, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 10:57:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21160550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/pseuds/elletromil
Summary: Harry is bringing Merlin to a very private showing of his latest exhibition.





	Our love is worth more than a thousand images

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InsaneRedDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneRedDragon/gifts).

> Today's prompt was 'photography' and I couldn't resist revisiting this little verse and spoiling Red at the same time :3

The art gallery is completely empty when Harry lets them in, which makes sense considering the exhibition only starts tomorrow.

Merlin wonders what he promised Morgan in exchange of them having their own very private vernissage. Sure, Harry will be the one showcased in the next few weeks, but it's still Morgan's gallery and she never does anything for nothing.

All these thoughts vanishes as soon as he sees Harry's works.

He's seen a few of them already of course, because Harry always values his opinion even though Merlin is more at ease in front of the camera than behind.

But like always, Morgan has expertly brought Harry's vision for this particular art show to life, arranging the photographs in the most perfect way.

He grabs Harry's hand and link their fingers together. "It feels like home."

Harry takes a step closer to kiss his cheek and Merlin can feel his smile in the gesture.

He understands why. They've been together for a little bit more than five years now and Merlin has moved in with Harry about a year ago. But he's never really referred to the house as his home until now.

But now, seeing through Harry's eyes, he realises it's been his too for longer than he'd known.

They go at a slow space, Merlin stopping at each photo.

Sometimes, he remembers exactly what happened the day it was taken. For example, that shot of their shoes abandoned haphazardly on the stairs is the day they finished sorting out the last of Merlin's boxes. And then spent the rest of the afternoon in bed.

Others, he can't exactly pinpoint. It's just so much a part of their daily lives. The steam rising from a forgotten cup of tea next to a pair of glasses and a closed tablet. Merlin probably just fell asleep on the couch instead of reading like he most assuredly planned on doing at the time. It happens much more frequently than he would admit to anyone.

As they go deeper into the gallery, the shots stop being about their home, but they're still about  _ them _ in a way.

The front of the tailor shop owned by Harry's family that Merlin favors not because it's Harry's cousins, but because they do the most impeccable work.

The exterior tables of that bistro where they had their first date. And where they make a point to go back to at least once per month.

The bench where they sit when they take Mr Pickle for a walk together.

It's also places they visited.

The view from the window at the inn they stayed at last summer.

A busy street, filled with tourists and vendors alike.

The top of a bell tower, the one from that little church they had spent nearly a whole afternoon admiring.

And then, unexpectedly, a lone photograph on the farthest wall. Not that there is any feeling of solitude coming from it. Thanks to the lighting in the gallery and the composition of the picture, it feels nearly cozy. Like the comforting nook you find in a house where time seems to suspend itself.

He lets go of Harry's hand and steps closer to inspect it, never one to let a mystery go. Why this picture so far from all the others? And why after so many shots of the world outside their home are they brought back to their bedroom?

Because that's Harry's nightstand in the photograph, the drawer left open just enough that Merlin can see all the knick knacks Harry keeps in there.

There's something there he's never seen before however, a small squarish box covered in what seems to be dark velvet.

He looks at the title of the piece, the sound of his own heartbeat nearly deafening in his ears.

_ The right moment _

"Harry?"

He turns around and Harry is now behind him, a knee on the floor, the same velvet box from the picture held in his proffered hand. Only, now it's open and Merlin can see the glint of the ring inside.

"Merlin," Harry's voice sounds slightly choked up and he swallows a couple of times before shaking his head with a sheepish smile. Knowing him, he's probably just given up on whatever long speech he had prepared for the occasion. "Will you marry me?"

Merlin only answer is to haul him back on his feet so that he can kiss him properly, completely oblivious to the sound of the ring clattering to the ground.

"Yes," he clarifies when they separate, breathless, after what seems like an eternity later, just in case he wasn't clear enough. "Yes, Harry. I'll marry you."


End file.
